Desperate Measures (18 page)

“Even though you don’t think of me as your brother anymore, my niece, your daughter still sends me occasional notes and Christmas cards with pictures of your grandchildren, even Alexandra’s birth announcement,” Gary said.

Jack resisted the impulse to scream into the phone. He prayed it wasn’t his granddaughter’s birth announcement picture that had gone missing. He recalled the photo at the crime scene was a scan of the original. Could his brother be telling the truth in admitting his copy was missing and suspected their sister took it?

He tried his best to be civil and asked, “What picture, Gary? Why have you just now realized it’s gone?”

“It’s the picture of Caitlin and her family on the day Alexandra was born. I had it on my fireplace. That’s the best picture I had of them.”

Jack inhaled but didn’t say a word, he wanted Gary to continue talking.

“Anyway,” Gary proceeded, “after that FBI agent left, I thought of how odd Ginny acted when she was here.”

“Odd how?” Jack prodded.

“We seemed to be having a good time, saw some shows, gambled. Then she got on a rampage and started interrogating me about, well, you know, you, Mom, and Dad.”

“No, I don’t know. What did she ask?” Jack demanded.

“The same old shit. What did Mom say to me? Is Jack really a Bucklin?”

“What made you notice the picture was missing?” Jack asked again.

“After Agent Cox left, I went fishing and started thinking back to Ginny’s visit and her carrying on about you and Caitlin. When I got home, I wanted to see the picture.

“I’m not the greatest housekeeper and don’t pay attention to the pictures on the mantle above my fireplace, since I’m not one for dusting. I’m sure I put the picture in a gold frame and set it at the center. The frame’s there but now it contains the picture of me, you, Ginny, and Carol at the Jersey shore.”

Jack’s stomach clenched, and his jawed tightened. “I remember the picture but what does it have to do with the other missing photo?”

“That’s the damnedest thing. I remember seeing the picture ever since I was a kid. Mom had it displayed in the living room but I never had a copy,” Gary answered.

“Gary, what the hell are you trying to tell me? You think Ginny switched the photos?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying, but I don’t know why. One other thing, I know this is a stupid question since you haven’t talked to her in years, but do you have any idea where she is? The FBI can’t find her and I haven’t been able to get a hold of her for about two weeks. Supposedly, she has a new boyfriend but wouldn’t say much about him.”

Aggravated and tense, Jack responded, “No I haven’t talked to her and I don’t care about her sleazy boyfriend.”

“Jack, once this is all over can we talk? I do miss you. I’m really sorry I started all of the shit and got you to blame Caitlin for revealing your secret. I’ve changed and gotten my act together and would really like to get to know my brother again.”

“We’ll see.” Jack made a half-hearted promise.

“I guess that’s all I can hope for. I sincerely hope Caitlin’s safe. Please call me if I can help in anyway.”

“Bye, Gary.”

* * * *

Jack set the phone on the counter. He placed his hands on the cold marble and steadied himself. His thoughts wandered back in time to the day the photo at the Jersey shore was taken,
Oh, mother, where did you go that day? Was that my real father in the car?

Jack, a high school student, his twin siblings eight or nine years old, and Carol an infant. His mother, Jane, left him in charge for an hour.

During summertime, Jack’s mom, Jane, took them to the beach several times a week. She loved the Jersey shore and enjoyed swimming in the ocean and playing with her children in the sand. They usually went to a beach further south. Not on that day…

“Mom, can’t we go to Manasquan Beach? All of my friends from high school go there, the waves are great,” Jack complained.

“Jack, we always go to Manasquan, Belmar has a beautiful beach too. Let’s give it a try.”

Jack unloaded the chairs and toys for his brother and sisters from the trunk and trudged down the steps toward the beach. By the time he got everything set up, his mother arrived. She laid a sleeping Carol on the blanket and adjusted the umbrella to shade the baby. Ginny and Gary ran toward them with a beach ball.

“Jack, honey, can you watch your brother and sisters for a little while? I forgot something in the car and I want to run over to the beach store across the street. I saw an adorable bathing suit for Carol.”

“Why not? None of my friends are here. What else do I have to do?” The moody teenager in him reared its ugly head.

Jane ignored his acidic remark and didn’t seem to notice his unhappiness. “I won’t be long. You may meet some new friends your age.”

Jack gazed after his mother and couldn’t help but notice her hurried pace, as if she were late for an important appointment.

“Jack!” Ginny cried from the edge of the surf. “Gary hit the ball too hard and it went up on the boardwalk. Can you get it for us?”

Jack turned to check on his baby sister, who slept peacefully. He ran up the few steps to retrieve the ball. When he found the ball he looked across the street. His heart jumped and seemed to stop for a long moment. A long black car idled at the curb and a chauffeur held the rear door open. A man’s hand reached out and helped his mother into the back seat.

Jack grabbed the ball, went back to his brother and sisters on the beach, and tried to block the troubling image from his mind. He ran and chased Ginny and Gary until he wore them out. Carol sipped from a bottle when his mother eventually returned. Laden with bags from who knew where, Jane stopped to snap a picture.

* * * *

It won’t be long until he’d meet with Aces again. He looked forward to shocking Caitlin with the latest masquerade. She’ll recognize him immediately but the master of disguises and new identities had no worries. He’d been able to slip on and off the island of St. Kitts and the FBI still hadn’t discovered anything from the travel records. When the next flight was booked, red flags would go up. By then, it would be too late.

He ran his finger across the top of the picture frame which stood on the coffee table. He heard the shower in the bathroom. He reached for the phone. Only a few minutes remained to make the call and then everything would be set into motion.

He dialed the number and a sensual voice at the other end answered. “Hello, partner, checking up on me?”

“First of all, you’re not my partner. I work alone. You know what you have to do, right? Check-in and not a minute before the time I told you,” he commanded.

“Contrary to what you may think, I’m not an idiot. I can follow instructions, especially for the down payment you gave me. You better come through with the balance once I finish my part.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I owe you another grand. You better make sure you check-in for that flight and get your ass out of the airport as fast as possible.”

“Of course. I’ll see you on Monday on your way back?”

“If all goes well in the Caribbean, I’ll see you where we agreed to meet,” he confirmed and ended the phone call.

He heard the shower still running and took pleasure in the recollection of the spontaneous addition to the already perfect plan he’d concocted.

With a stroke of luck, the two had met during his last pass through Miami International Airport. Met might be too light of a word and stalking sounded too harsh. A one-sided planned meeting would better describe the encounter and innocent situation. People bump into each other all the time and airports presented many opportunities. A lot of small talk could be had after each party exchanged a litany of, “Oops I’m sorry, it was my fault. Let me help you with that bag.”

The circumstances surrounding their introduction were inconsequential compared to the end result. The uncanny resemblance would divert the FBI’s attention. By the time the Feds figured it out, it’d be too late.

* * * *

Relaxed for most of the morning, Tomas glanced at his blackberry. Tension built with each passing hour. He waited for news of the Nevis passenger but heard nothing yet. Something nagged at his mind and he couldn’t put a finger on it. The deviation in the schedule had triggered their attention. Something had to be there, he just knew it. The reports, that’s it. He needed to look at them again. He sent a brief text message to Drew:
D, Pick
me up 20 mins in front of Mels
,
T
.

Chris drove the boat sending Chad into his last ski lap. Tomas walked up behind him. “Once Chad’s in the boat, drop me off on the beach in front of Mel’s. Drew’s going to pick me up. The guy we’ve been tracking from the Nevis flight is arriving again tomorrow and I need to check something out.”

“You think it might be him? Any tie to Caitlin?” Chris inquired.

“No, that’s the thing. The guy’s squeaky clean and I can’t see where he and Caitlin ever could’ve crossed paths. The only thing that stands is he flew into Nevis the weekend before the Martel’s got here and left early the day they arrived. “

“I’m in!” Chad yelled.

“Everyone settled? I’m heading back to shore. It’s Alexandra’s turn after we drop Tomas off,” Chris shouted over the roar of the engines.

Caitlin leaned over to Tomas. “Do you think you found him?”

“Not yet,” Tomas informed her.

He didn’t reveal the fact that the person had no motive but somehow had moved to the top of the suspect list. The deviation of a routine schedule warranted observation but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He needed more proof to apprehend the suspect before he or she landed on Nevis again.

“Don’t forget the bonfire tonight. For your first trip to St. Kitts you can’t miss it! The band plays great music and when the sun sets, the green flash is spectacular.” Caitlin beamed.

“Don’t worry , Ms. Social Director, I wouldn’t miss it. Just do me and your husband a favor and don’t run off into the crowd.”

“You got it but when they play the Electric Slide all bets are off. You know I’m a local celebrity here because of that song.”

“Yes, I know all about how you taught most of the island the dance the first time you and Scott came here.”

* * * *

Tomas gathered his belongings and prepared for a quick exit once the boat reached the beach. He stumbled against the back seat when the boat decelerated. Did they run out of gas? The engines roared so that couldn’t be the cause of the sudden stop. Tomas rubbed his head where he bumped it in the fall and on unsteady legs guided himself to the cockpit.

Scott yanked Chris out of the driver’s seat and commandeered the helm. He shouted and pointed to the beach area.

“Chris, sorry I jerked the boat into neutral but I had no choice. It’s low tide and you don’t know this beach as well as I do. The area is very rocky close to shore and could cause serious damage to the hull.”

Tomas waited while Scott navigated the boat as close as he could to shore. Too close, and the waves would drive the vessel onto the small but damaging rocks.

Scott put the boat back into neutral and waved for Tomas to go. He jumped into the water, twenty-five yards off shore in front of Mel’s Lobster Shack.

He swam toward the beach. When he stood in two feet of water, his ankle became lodged between the dangerous stones. “Shit that hurt!” he cursed. He pulled his foot free and limped toward the beach.

Drew covered his mouth but the smile was evident. “Nice entrance, very graceful. You okay?”

“I’m fine let’s go. That guy landing tomorrow bothers me. There’s got to be some connection and we have to find it. Time’s running out.” Tomas clenched his teeth in reaction to the pain in his ankle.

Drew led the way toward the sand parking lot. “Car’s over here.” He pulled the car out onto the small road in the direction of headquarters. “You’ve heard what’s out there haven’t you? Your house secured in Miami?”

“Unfortunately, yes I heard and after Andrew hit Miami in the 1990s, my house is always secured and ready. My wife and son are all set to go to the in-laws if they need to, or I might just fly them down here.”

“Good, I’d like to meet them one of these days.”

They pulled into the parking lot of the station house and entered the building. Tomas picked up the stack of reports and re-read the information about Ian Yates.

Hours passed, fatigue and eyestrain affected Tomas’s concentration. The morning boating did little to revive him from the sleepless night he’d endured reviewing the same paperwork. His ankle ached, his neck was stiff, and his temple throbbed with the beat of a massive headache. He stood, stretched, and retrieved a bottle of chilled water. Sitting back in front of the mountain of papers, and placing the water on the floor, he accidentally sent the papers shuffling. Documents slid and mixed together in an unorganized mess. Great! Just what he needed.

Angry with himself for creating more work, he grasped sheets of paper and attempted to place them in their respective pile. He stopped his movements. He saw it. Right there in black and white, the connection to everything, or at least he hoped.

Tomas called the Director of the FBI, Frank Felton, who picked up on the first ring.

Tomas chose to forgo pleasantries and stated the facts. “Frank, it’s Tomas. I’m re-reading the background on Ian Yates. I found some information that puzzles me.”

“Come on, Tomas, run it by me, let’s brainstorm. What did you find? I know you excel at finding the tiniest shred of information missed by others. It usually turns out to be the case breaker.”

“I might have found a link between Lukas Bucklin and Ian.”

“What? How? Where’s the connection? The guy’s clean as a whistle, a total computer geek.” Frank had a habit of stating politically incorrect comments.

“He worked for the electronics company that burned down when Lukas Bucklin started the electronics division ten years ago.” Tomas began to the relay his suspicions.

“Yeah, but Ian Yates left the company before the fire,” Frank countered.